Footloose
by ColorM
Summary: Edited. He's never seen her dance–barefoot, with her curls bouncing off her shoulders. So as a Stiles mechanism, he can only just stand there so dumbfounded.


_**A/N: **So, consider this, my second Teen Wolf story, perhaps? I edited this because I felt like the first one was just a horrible Sterica fic. It didn't even do them justice. So, I had to edit the dialogue and make it right. I had to make Sterica right._

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**FOOTLOOSE**

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It's a eleven at night, and school is long forgotten. Failed homework assignments, and D–'s are all a blur to the clean, shaven boy who's sweating his night away.

He doesn't even remember half of the night.

All he knows is that Isaac decided to just invite everyone to a mini-get together. And this is how he found himself drinking a fourth cup of probably spiked soda.

It's kind of a great idea though. More like a genius one, one that only Isaac or Stiles could have thought of.

Because if he would have said no, he would have probably been watching a rerun of some horrible television show that got cancelled after one season.

Hell, he thinks of it now, he would have been asleep.

He wouldn't be here, dancing to the same song for ten minutes.

Well, he can't really consider whatever movement he's doing right now, a dance. It's more like a young toddler trying to dance–cute and effervescent.

It's nothing compared to Lydia's grace in her dance. It's like a choreography, with some repetition and some new, but it works perfectly. Actually, it works brilliantly, because Stiles cannot stop staring.

And she's so oblivious.

She cannot even see his big, brown, wide eyes sinking into her.

It almost pisses him off. Almost.

Because he's not even staring at her anymore, once he takes a large gulp of his soda and turns to the blonde.

He notices, and now is gaze is locked on the swing of her hips. And the leg being thrown from side to side. And, Stiles realises–now that, that is true grace.

It's almost too overbearingly perfect.

She's smiling so broad and tight, that it's revealing how much of an amazing bone structure she has. Cheek bones so excellently placed, so that her smile is exactly the impression of a seductress.

Not that he thinks of her as one, at all. Even though she plays the part so well. She isn't one.

Now looking at her bare feet, sliding across the concrete. She'll never be one. She's too much of a monumental statue to even be compared to one.

She leaves too much of an impression on Stiles to be one.

And even as her hair sticks to the sweat glands on her face. She grabs a handful of it with one hand, and shakes it back.

It's almost like one of those shows on the animal channel. Where they reveal the animals reactions and effects to certain events. Sort of like a documentary–Erica's documentary. Erica, the Girl Wolf, documentary to be precise.

And, Stiles cannot stop staring.

Her dress is so tight, and so short, and so red. That it makes it so hard to stop staring. And her curves, they're like an impressive slope proving that she's not to be messed with.

He can only just stand there so dumbfounded.

She's swinging her legs back and forth, in such a elegant, and wild way. He doesn't even know how those two go together, but right now, they just simply do.

But she's laughing so much, that it makes Stiles chuckle as he takes another sip of his drink. His drink that's already finished, because when he actually turns away from her for once, the soda's gone.

And all he can do now, is shake is hips to the rhythm of the song. The same damn song that's been playing for so long.

_Loose, footloose kick off your Sunday shoes,_

Oh, Erica's definitely getting loose. She's loosening from Stiles's imaginary grasp. He wants to grab her in and keep her close to him. He wants Erica as his tonight.

_Please, Louise pull me off my knees,_

God, Stiles is definitely on his knees. And it's all because of Erica.

_Jack, get back c'mon before we crack,_

He actually starts to whimper low, because he knows she isn't even his anymore. Supposedly, Boyd and her have an undefined relationship–or whatever the hell it is. And it kills him to know he lost her.

_Lose your blues everybody cut footloose._

Stiles is pissed off now. Not almost, fully. Because the very beautiful girl that's dancing her night away in front of him, isn't his.

And then she stops, and turns to him. Her curls returning to her chest, while a very large smirk plasters on her face. Then, for the first time tonight, extends her hand to someone else. Stiles.

"Dance with me." Hell yes, is the very first thought that crosses his head. A very triumphant smile crosses his face. But then he remembers very clearly of why she isn't his again. Boyd.

"Erica, I'm not kind of guy." He reassured her, the smirk leaving her face as fast as it took her to extend her hand. "I don't–I won't be that guy."

"You aren't anyone but Batman." She insisted, shaking her hand a little so he could extend his and dance with her. "My Batman," Erica pouted. Stiles' heart very well jumped at her directing 'my' towards Stiles.

"What is Boyd then?"

"What? What does Boyd have to do with this?" Her face packed with confusion, quickly lowered her hand.

"He's your boyfriend..." Stiles said, almost immediately regretting that he said it. It managed to tick something in Erica's expression, changing it into a quick laugh.

"Boyfriend–Boyd, what? That's funny, really funny. You're funny Stiles." Erica finished, chuckling a little bit.

"Yeah, I'm, uh, hilarious." He joked blindly along, completely confused to what the hell was happening.

"You didn't actually believe that me and Boyd were together, did you?" She asked, making him slightly nervous to nod.

But he did. "So you guys aren't going out?"

"No." She laughed again.

"Wow, okay, then this whole–jealousy thing was for no reason." He stammered, slapping his hand on his cheek, dragging it down. "That's quite..embarrassing."

At first, she smirked so smugly that it annoyed the hell out of Stiles. Then she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. She was looking at him a bit too strong, and it was a little unnerving.

"What?"

"I just–I thought you would know me a little better. I thought you'd remember who I belong to." She replied, giving Stiles a look he's never seen her flash. It was like a sad, confused stare. One he didn't like too well, or even at all.

"I'm sorry," she looked down for a few minutes.

"It's fine." She simply said, turning away from him. But he quickly grabbed the arm that was closest to him and brought her back to him in a quick millisecond.

"You asked me to dance," he said, bobing his head, "and I will."

Once he actually began to "dance", a very big smile formed on her face. He nailed to make her happy again. And that seemed to cool his nerves a little.

"Come on, dance!" He shouted, throwing his head from side to side. Only causing Erica's smile to expand. "Erica." Stiles continued, using her arms as extra help to dance.

She still didn't move. At all.

"Are you going to be mad all night?" Erica only threw her hands on his shoulder, before shaking her head.

"Stiles," he slightly knew that this was going to be offensive. "Stop dancing." And yeah, this was offensive.

"Gee, thanks, it's not like I have time to rehearse my moves."

"I didn't rehearse mine."

"Well, we don't all look good at dancing."

"You think I look good?" She innocently and intentionally asked Stiles–the one who had been eyeing her all night. She knew very well that it was going to bring her even upper than she was.

Hell, Stiles wanted to see her smile.

"I think you look amazing, Erica." A smile rose once he mentioned her name. As if her name was honey on his lips.

"Thank you." She said, and like if it was a coincidence, the music changed. And Kenny Loggins was forgotten.

"Do you want to dance?" Stiles asked, extending his hand this time. "I mean, I might once in a while step on you because my feet weren't touched with the fairy dust of dance, but I'm capable."

"Alright then, Stiles. Let's waltz." She placed her hand in his.

"Waltz? Um, what's a waltz?"

"Looks like we have a lot of work to do."

They never did learn how to waltz though. Stiles kept stepping on her, and she got tired. So, they just danced in harmony, with her head rested on his shoulder.

Just like they did on their wedding night.

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_Did you guys like it? I felt like their was something wrong the first time, so I had to fix it. Constructive criticism welcomed! :) _


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